


The Valedictorian

by KarenR2



Category: South Park
Genre: Banter, Kygory, Kyle x Gregory, M/M, Sapiosexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8166572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarenR2/pseuds/KarenR2
Summary: The blonde, British prick just had to turn up from absolutely nowhere and challenge him for the title of Valedictorian, didn’t he? Kyle x Gregory





	

**Author's Note:**

> I actually love these two and their dynamic? I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing for them!

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

Kyle was in a perpetual state of _pissed off_ ever since Gregory came back to South Park. In his mind, the blonde Brit was a walking, breathing, talking _insult_ to his life, _personally_ —existing only to mock him and undermine his efforts and be a general pain in the ass.

Like, honestly. What the hell was he doing back in **South Park**?

The second Kyle recognised who walked into their homeroom, trepidation had sunk in his gut like lead. Gregory’s introduction speech was crisp and clear and almost a perfect rendition of how Kyle remembered the one from years ago was, exactly to the script including the fucking 4.0 grade point average. As he looked over the mass of neat, curly blonde hair, a face sporting a confident smirk and hosting sharp, hazel-green eyes, the slim body dressed so smartly in tame orange and brown and covering smooth, alabaster skin, all Kyle could think of was: **_Fuck_**.

He fucking hated Gregory Griffith’s guts.

He had re-entered his life two and a half months ago now, and his earlier dread had proven to be true. Now there were whispers among the school halls about who would actually be the valedictorian for their final year, which only served to grate on Kyle’s nerves. His primary rival had been Wendy, but he’d managed to get better grades than her due to a combination of hard work and circumstance. While he was captain of the basketball team and debate team, she was class president and president of a number social, charity, and volunteer clubs. They’d battled it out for the top student position for what seemed like a match going back since grade school, but it had become clearer that Kyle was taking the lead. Whispers about who would top the class gradually stopped in response.

But then along came Gregory and his fucking 4.0 grade point average, and the whispers came back anew like a tumour.

Kyle’s friends found him intolerable nowadays. He _lived_ in his books now, becoming easily irritable and harsh if his strict studying schedule wasn’t adhered to. People walked on broken glass around the redhead, fearful of being found at the end of his frustrations. This only served to cause Kyle to be even more unhappy.

And then something completely, utterly _wretched_ happened: he and Gregory were paired to do an assignment together.

Kyle wasn’t the only one shocked at this turn of events. There were a number of students who spoke up and whined about how _unfair_ it was that the two smartest kids in class would be working together (“Share some of that smartness around and help boost _our_ grades, for Christ sake, _they_ don’t fucking need it!”). But their modern sciences teacher was a cruel, cruel mistress, and in fact purposefully paired Kyle and Gregory together in order to give them a topic from _hell_ —it was like she gave them an assignment a whole four levels above the rest of the class, complete with a more exhausting criteria. “Extra credit,” she said to them, taunting and challenging, “I want to see what you two can come up with together.”

The fucking _bitch_.

So here Kyle was, waiting for his _partner_ in the library, ready to tackle this beast of an assignment that he didn’t ask for, nor did he want. But Gregory, since political sciences were his favourite, gladly opened his arms to the raging bull of a project—how the hell was Kyle supposed to turn it down then? No way was he going to let the Brit one-up him on this one, no way in hell.

When Gregory finally arrived, Kyle resisted the instinctive desire to narrow his eyes. Instead, he forced upon himself a superficial calm as he perched an eyebrow at the blonde, quipping, “You’re late.”

The other paused before he sat down and checked his watch (which was fucking _Bulova_ , the pompous ass rich kid, who the hell wears such expensive shit to school? Although, granted, at least it wasn’t _Bulgari_ ). “I am not,” the British boy said simply. “I arrived right on time.” Then those green eyes looked at him directly, which made Kyle’s blood boil. “You just got here too early, my friend.”

“Just sit the fuck down so we can get started already,” Kyle snapped.

Gregory’s face remained neutral as he did just that. “No need for such vulgarities, Kyle,” he said lightly, taking out his laptop. “Such negativity is not good for you.”

“Didn’t realise you cared so much about my well-being.”

Gregory smirked. “Well, you’re my partner now. It is in my interest that you remain capable of working with me—I don’t want sickness to be an excuse as to why you are not able to put in your best.”

The implication made Kyle colour slightly and he glared sharply at the blonde. “Dude, who do you think I am? One of the assholes who think being partnered with you is a free pass to an A? Fuck you.”

This time, the British young man laughed. It was a low baritone, the sound sounding controlled even then. “Although I do admit that there seems to be an alarming number of students with that mentality at this school, I was not implying that.” Hazel eyes adopted a strange gleam, as if appraising the redhead before him. “I know _you_ wouldn’t slack off.”

Kyle shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with being under the limelight of Gregory Griffith’s critical gaze. “Yeah, well,” he said, glancing away to open his own laptop, to preoccupy his hands if nothing else. “Bet you’d like it if I did, though,” he mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

Kyle sighed, glancing at Gregory with an exasperated look. “Dude, this isn’t time for us to small talk. Let’s talk about the project.”

But Gregory didn’t do anything to indicate he was going to follow that suggestion. Instead, he put both elbows on the table and perched his head on a hand, looking to all the world like he had no other objective than to stare at Kyle’s face. “I like getting to know my partner before I begin any real work,” he said casually.

Slowly becoming more irritated, Kyle turned to face him fully. He deadpanned, “That’s bullshit. You wouldn’t care about shit like that—especially if most of your partners were previously slackers, like you said.”

“What if I did it to determine whether or not they _were_ these so-called ‘slackers’ before the fact, and prepared myself accordingly for their misbehaviour?”

“You wouldn’t need to hold a conversation like this to know. Us types can sense those kinds of people like they’re rotten cheese.”

A laugh. “Us types?”

“You know what I mean.” A roll of emerald-coloured eyes. “Anyway, are we done? Have you figured out whether or not I have good work ethic just by three minutes of conversation? Are you satisfied with the competency of your new partner?”

“I trust you, but I would like to continue this conversation, if we may. You interest me.”

Kyle didn’t know how to respond to that. He felt his cheeks flushing a little and he let out an apparently disinterested grunt. “Huzzah, I’ve attracted the attentions of the great Gregory Griffith! My high school life will never be the same.”

The blonde frowned at the other’s sarcasm. “Why are you so hostile towards me? I would have thought that your friend Stanley would harbor such animosity, not you.”

“First of all, why the fuck are you still calling him _Stanley_? It’s _Stan_ , dude. Are you his mother?” Kyle snorted. “And I’m not ‘hostile,’” he denied. “You’re just annoying.”

“I know that I was not exactly polite to you and your friends the first instance we met, but I would like to think that I’ve been more friendly and courteous now. I don’t remember you hating me before.”

The words sounded so earnest to Kyle’s ears, making him fidget slightly with discomfort. “I don’t _hate_ you…”

With how Kyle wasn’t looking, he missed the way Gregory’s eyes gleamed. “Oh? Then why are you so irate with me?”

The redhead sighed, casting an irritated glare at him. “Why are you so nosy?” he retaliated. “You’re just prolonging our time together, wasting time like this. Now I’m going to think _you’re_ the one who’ll be slacking.”

That got the desired effect. Gregory’s own eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. “I will do no such thing.”

“Well then can we get _on_ with it?”

“Are you attempting to bait me?” To Kyle’s fury, Gregory smirked. “I’m not so easily manipulated.”

Kyle groaned, resisted the urge to repeatedly bang his head on the table. ‘ _Kill me_.’

“I’ll prove my worth in due time; I’m sure you’re aware of my efficiency. Two smart chaps like ourselves? We have no worries.”

Kyle pursed his lips and glared at the arrogant fool. Also who the fuck said ‘chaps’ in this day and age?

“See,” Gregory mused, eyes dancing as he watched his partner. “You have such resentment in you. Why? Everyone—well, mostly everyone, anyway—likes me. I am charming and intelligent and involved. What have I done to offend you?”

Other than becoming the bane of Kyle’s existence overnight and threatening to render all his hard work up until this point in time completely null? “If you’re so smart,” Kyle said, attempting to retain some sort of resemblance of patience, “then why don’t you figure it out for yourself?”

Gregory adopted that look again, appraising, his hazel eyes cooling into a countenance that made Kyle slightly flustered. He seemed to become bare in front of the blonde as he was looked over and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Sometimes, the other boy could be so unreadable and still, like the waters of a deep, calm lake—who knew what really lurked beneath the depths? The unreadable expression made Kyle uncomfortable, made him resist the urge to fidget and move, a tightness in his chest forming when he was looked at in such a way with equal parts irritation and unease. Finally, Gregory’s impassive face revealed a smile, quirked and bemused. “I think,” he began slowly, “you do not like me because I am intruding upon your territory.”

Trying to remain calm, Kyle scoffed and stressed, “ _What_?”

But Gregory seemed satisfied with his observations, ticking Kyle off more. “Yes. I do believe I am correct.”

Okay, this was getting seriously annoying. “Are you going to fucking elaborate?”

“Hmm?” the other hummed, making a show of being busy with his laptop. “Oh, now you want to small talk?”

Oh, fuck you. “You can’t just say something like that and not fucking explain yourself, you giant, pompous asshole.”

“Yes, being called such a thing makes me oh so inclined to immediately appease you.”

“You know what, Griffith? _Fuck you_.”

“Nay,” Gregory said lightly. “I believe it would be the other way around.”

Kyle coloured, his face turning an impressive red. He had half the mind to just throw a book at him and storm off, but that also seemed like defeat to him—and he will not lose to fucking _Gregory_. Not in anything. “What the hell are you talking about? Is that something you _think_ about? Fucking hypotheticals?”

This time, it seemed that _Kyle_ was the one who was making Gregory uncomfortable. The blonde wasn’t looking at him and was casually typing something into his laptop. He seemed unbothered and disinterested, but Kyle wasn’t fooled. He felt a little bit of sadistic glee at the knowledge that he’d broken a bit of Gregory’s composure. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” the Brit finally answered, ceasing to type and looking at him. His gaze was surprisingly chilly. “It was just more of an eloquent way of saying ‘ _No, fuck **you**._ ’ I apologise if it came across differently and made you uncomfortable.”

Okay, shit. Now Kyle was _definitely_ thinking about it and his face felt hot. He made the mistake of staring at Gregory for a bit too long without a scathing remark, because suddenly the blonde was looking at him with keen interest again, the chilliness in his eyes fading away to be replaced by curiosity. An amused smile graced his face, small and inquisitive. “Kyle?”

His name, and the way it was uttered so smoothly, snapped him out of his thoughts. He felt like he was _burning_. “J-Just fucking explain what you meant!” Kyle hastily said, visibly disgruntled and wanting to punch Gregory’s face just so he would _stop_ _looking at him like that._ “With the fucking territory thing!”

Gregory laughed and shook his head. He was merciful, however, and humoured him. “When we first met, I earned Stanley’s ire because I infringed on his, completely ridiculous, ‘mental territory.’ In other words, he felt threatened by me because I drew Wendy’s interest.”

Kyle frowned. “I don’t have a girlfriend that you can threaten to take from me, Griffith.”

Gregory scoffed, rolling his eyes slightly before landing back again onto emerald-green. “Don’t be cute, _Broflovski_ ,” he mocked. “I’m talking about a completely different kind of mental territory.”

The redhead clenched his teeth. If you listened very closely, you could probably hear the poor bones grinding. “What the _fuck_ are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about,” Gregory said slowly, as if he was talking to a particularly stupid child, “you becoming defencive and hostile due to the fact that there may be another student smarter than you in class.”

Oh.

Oh.

**_He went there._ **

“You think you’re smarter than me?” Kyle’s voice was deceptively calm.

Gregory didn’t look away from the fire in Kyle’s gaze. “My thoughts are of little consequence, because they do not affect my behaviour. _Yours_ , on the other hand, threaten to sabotage a good partnership. You’re very proud, Kyle.”

“And you’re fucking not?” he retaliated hotly.

The blonde waved a hand dismissively. “Of course I am. I have many things to be proud _of_.” Then he smirked, pointed and sharp. “For example, I’m honoured that you view me so highly.”

Kyle nearly spluttered. “It’s not— _what_.” In a way, Gregory was correct of course. Kyle did acknowledge how intelligent the other was, obviously—otherwise, why would he view him as such a large threat? But the way he said it, like _that_ , made him embarrassed, because it wasn’t like he fucking _admired_ him or something. No, not at all. He wasn’t _that_ impressed by his critical analytic skills, of how he could thoroughly tackle a project while taking on a unique and obscure angle and somehow making it _work_ ; it wasn’t like Kyle was often stricken by how clever his words could be, how sharp his wit was, how smoothly his tongue spoke out rhetoric; it wasn’t like he was _attracted_ to his intelligence, found a secret thrill in the way he posed as a challenge, as his equal, making his heart beat faster with adrenaline; it wasn’t as if he loved the way his mind seemed to sharpen in response to his mere presence while at the same time turning it into a stupidly blank slate, the coolness of his gaze both irritating and exciting him. No, none of that. That would be _gay_.

“I consider you my rival as well,” Gregory’s sinfully smooth voice spoke, breaking through Kyle’s suddenly panicked and flustered thoughts. Gregory sounded like he was laughing, even though he wasn’t—perhaps it was in the tone of his voice. “I admire your intelligence too, Kyle. And you’re earnest—you work hard. I like that about you.”

Kyle gaped, unable to come up with a smartass retort this time, his jaw hanging open unattractively.

Gregory laughed again and reached out, long, thin fingers hooking under Kyle’s chin and tapping his mouth closed. “And,” he continued, hazel eyes fucking _twinkling_ , “I think you like me too.”

That got a more active reaction from Kyle. He startled backward, even though he was sitting, and nearly threatened to topple over in his chair. He looked like a deer caught in headlights as he stared at Gregory like the Brit had grown a second head. “ _What_?” he squawked, face completely red, the blush reaching even the tip of his ears and down his neck. “What the _fuck_! I fucking hate your guts! Where the hell—“

Kyle’s panic-induced ranting was cut off harshly by the librarian, who hushed at him viciously with a deeply displeased frown on his face as he made his rounds. If Kyle was physically capable, he would have coloured even more with embarrassment. He forced himself to calm down, to quieten, as he glared hotly at Gregory from beneath long eyelashes (he couldn’t seem to look at him directly in the face right now—he’d just lose it). “Don’t go trying and push your wild fucking dreams on me, Gregory,” he hissed.

“Now, don’t be silly,” the other said simply, greatly amused even though his face remained calmly casual. It was in his fucking eyes, the way they _gleamed_ as he watched the redhead. “We’re both mature young men. I think we can admit to attraction when we feel it.” Then he added, wryly, “At least, I would _hope_ so.”

Kyle felt like his head might explode. “You’re _attracted_ to me?” Damn it. His voice didn’t sound as repulsed as he wanted it to be. _Fuck_.

Gregory _laughed_. “Yes,” he said simply. “You’re attractive to me. You’re passionate, which I admire about you, and you take care of yourself and your body. You’re proud and, while it may be detrimental sometimes, you would not hesitate to defend yourself or your friends, whether it be through words or through fists—I prefer the former more so than the latter, as even despite it being a charming quality of yours, your aggressiveness can come across as rather brutish. Which is a shame, because I very much like your intelligence.” He leaned his cheek into his open palm, simply looking at the redhead. “Does this make you happy?”

There was a teasing lilt to his voice, playful and knowing. Kyle had just listened to him silently, blushing like a school girl and not the manly man that he _was_. He was visibly ruffled and he scowled, looking away from the blonde to stare unseeingly at his open laptop. He didn’t answer for a full minute, not knowing what to say, feeling sick in his gut from the nerves—he wished it was from disgust instead, because handling that would be so much easier than the fucking _smugness_ and _glee_ he was feeling combined with it all. “No,” he decided to say, a blatant lie that they both could see through like glass. “You still annoy the hell out of me.”

“It’s not like you don’t ire me as well, from time to time,” Gregory scoffed. “Like, say, your stubbornness and difficultness and pride—they displease me, sometimes.”

“You’re just salty because I won’t stroke your already inflated ego,” Kyle snorted, starting to feel a bit calmer, more normal, despite the pink still in his cheeks. But then he felt a bit guilty and wanted to throw the guy a bone—God forbid Kyle find out that Gregory can have a _puppy dog face_. “But, okay…” he started, tensely, as if he was forcing the words out under torture. “I _guess_ you’re not bad yourself.”

The bark of laughter surprised Kyle enough that he looked up, blessed with the sight of the blonde’s unguarded, laughing face. Kyle decided that he liked that expression on him. “Now I _know_ you can be more eloquent than _that_ , Mr Debating Captain,” Gregory quipped, chuckling.

“About that,” Kyle grunted. “You know what else annoys me about you? I get teased constantly on the team while you’re away, because people say that if it weren’t for the fact that I was already voted debating captain last year, _you’d_ be it instead.”

Gregory smiled knowingly. Kyle gawked at the expression.

“Well, fuck you.”

“I thought we already went over _that_ , my dear,” he laughed. He seemed to make it his personal goal to make Kyle blush as often as he could now. “So, I am correct, then? Your hostility can be explained away by you feeling threatened by me?”

“Not _entirely_ ,” Kyle mumbled. His friends have all voiced their complaints about Kyle’s behaviour recently, telling him he was being childish and topping the class didn’t _really_ give you extra benefits anyway. But they didn’t understand, or at least weren’t aware of the full extent of Kyle’s need to prove himself. He didn’t need it, but he _wanted_ it, and he’s worked fucking hard for it. Gregory was just giving him a run for his money and yes, while that was extremely irritating, the challenge was actually rather… fun. The blonde invoked a passion in him that he didn’t know he had. “You’re still just plain annoying.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m rather charming,” Gregory rebuked, grinning. It was rare to see him actually _grin_ like that; he usually only allowed small, polite smiles. “Is being valedictorian really that important to you?”

“Well, yeah,” Kyle said, glancing at him. “It’s not important to _you_?” His voice adopted a dangerous quality, warning Gregory that he should tread carefully. If Kyle heard that the Brit actually didn’t want it and was just doing this for _fun_ , well, there was going to be hell to pay.

“It is something I strive for, yes,” Gregory answered, carefully but sincerely. “After all, I strive to do my best in everything I do. I would love for that effort to mean I achieve the best grades, so of course I think it’s important.” He gave a small, jerking shrug. “I suppose I just carry rivalry with more grace than you,” he finished with an infuriating smirk.

Kyle didn’t take the bait—he didn’t want to be kicked out of the library, after all. “Well, I’m pretty sure you’d be annoyed as fuck too if some pompous prick turned up one day on your final year and threatened to steal the title from right under you,” he remarked coolly.

Gregory clicked his tongue in disapproval. “You really must make more appropriate terms of endearment for me, Kyle.”

“What the hell for? Didn’t realise you were suddenly _endeared_ to me.”

“Oh, come now. Don’t be difficult.”

“Why? Are my words breaking your fragile, little heart?”

“Hardly. It’s just that too much stubbornness is unattractive.”

“I’ll be sure to tell myself that when I actually start to care about your opinion.”

“So many people describe you as kind, but you’re actually quite prickly when you want to be. Like a cactus.”

Kyle suddenly laughed. “And you claim to be charming, but you’re still snooty as fuck.”

Gregory allowed a wry smile. “Guess we both have our faults.”

The redhead hummed, a little surprised by how they were getting along now, but honestly? He wasn’t complaining. It was actually rather nice. “And don’t talk as if you don’t like my sass. You’d find me boring, otherwise.”

A chuckle. “Ah, you know me so well.”

“Just know your type. You wouldn’t like someone unless they got under your skin, just a little.”

Gregory tilted his head curiously. “What makes you say that?”

Kyle looked at him, smirking crookedly. “Because you’re a whole lot like me.”

The bell suddenly rang, signalling the end of their study break, and both of their eyes widened with surprise. There was a beat, and then Kyle snorted while Gregory rolled his eyes, both inwardly laughing. “Considering that we didn’t get _anything_ done this session, I’m beginning to believe you may be bad for my work ethic.”

“Excuse me? Screw you, Gregory. You were the one who kept _talking_.”

They started packing up their things, bantering all the while. “I repeat: you’re bad for my work ethic. You shouldn’t be so _distracting_.”

“I’m flattered to know that I can distract you by doing absolutely fucking nothing.”

“Well, not nothing. Your antagonism towards me piqued my interest from the beginning.”

“Oh. Well.” Kyle coloured. “Those feelings haven’t really changed. Looking at you still irritates me.”

Gregory chuckled. “Are you sure you’re not just mistaking irritation for attraction?”

“ _Definitely_ irritation, stop trying to psycho-analyse me, you prick.” They walked out of the library together, side by side. “In any case, _you’re_ definitely the one to blame for us getting no work done just then.”

“Well, guess we’ll have to make up for the time-wasting,” the blonde countered smoothly. He looked over the redhead, hazel eyes mischievous. “Meet up after school?”

For some reason, there seemed to be a promise in that innocent little suggestion, and it made Kyle both wary and excited. He returned the look and, unbidden, he gave him a smirk. “See you then.”

The blonde, British prick just _had_ to turn up from absolutely nowhere and turn his life upside down, didn’t he?

* * *

 

Later on, after studying in efficient quiet in a nearly empty library, Gregory said, “I don’t understand why you covet the title of ‘valedictorian’ so badly.”

“We’ve gone over this.”

“No, it’s just—‘valedictorian’, in origin, is just the person who says the farewell speech for the graduating class. Although they _may_ be the top of their class, it’s not necessarily so.”

“So what? What’s your point?”

“Well, let’s just say that in terms of just names, you can keep your precious title of ‘valedictorian.’ Where I’m from, the student with the top grades is called something different.”

“Really? What?”

“ _Dux_.”

“Ducks?”

“You’re being cute again. _Dux_. While your title of valedictorian may be a derivative of the Latin _vale dicere_ , which means ‘to say farewell’, _dux_ is Latin for something else.”

“… What?”

A sly smirk. “It means ‘leader.’ So you can have your pretty little title that literally just means you’re a glorified speaker. I’ll be _dux_ , which, unlike valedictorian, can _only_ be achieved by being the highest-ranked in the class.”

“… Fuck you, Gregory.”

“You say that so much, I think you might have an unhealthy obsession.”

“I fucking hate your guts.”

While Kyle scowled, Gregory laughed.


End file.
